That One Time Gabriel Wasn't Dead
by Loconut321
Summary: It turns out that God brought Gabriel back from the dead... and he may have a "thing" for Sam Winchester. After all, for all the trouble this boy get into, he could really use an Archangel protector. AU, Fluff, Sabriel, eventual Destiel, WIP
1. Chapter 1

Sam sat on the edge of the Impala's trunk. No matter how good Dean took care of Baby, she still spontaneously broke down. Now he was sitting in the middle of nowhere on a dusty, vacant road; the sun slowly sinking into the western horizon. It wasn't all bad though. He found a warm, unopened beer underneath the front seat; which he was now drinking.

Dean wasn't picking up his cell phone, which Sam wasn't _really_ worried about. It was only a few miles back to the motel. If he needed to he could walk back then wait for his brother to stop spewing shit about he shouldn't have left Baby all alone… yada yada yada.

Or, he could call a tow truck.

Sam sighed at his lack of common sense, reaching into the pocket of his utility jacket to fish out the rectangular block of technology to do just that. He fished, and fished… and fished…

It wasn't there.

Sam pulled a confused face. He put it in there just a minute ago. Sam remembered it clearly. Reaching into the other pocket pulled nothing up as well.

"What the?" He muttered to himself.

"Missing something?"

The Winchester spun around so fast, whiplash was a serious possibility. He jumped to his feet in what must be a record time. "Gabriel!" He spluttered, instinctively reaching for the knife in his jean pocket.

"Sammy! I was hoping for a warmer reception."

"What the hell Gabriel? You're dead!"

Gabriel snorted; snapping his fingers to create a sucker and stick it in his smirking mouth. "Obviously not Samsquatch. Do I need a sign that reads 'not dead'? Would that help?"

Sam could only gape, repeating "What the hell" twice more.

Gabriel walked up to him, waving a hand in front of his face. "Did I break my limited edition Sammy? I'm don't know where you keep your instruction leaflet, so we're kinda screwed."

Sam snapped out of his stupor. "It's Sam," he growled, pushing Gabriel backwards.

"You wound me Sammy!" Gabriel pouted, slapping a hand over his heart with a painful slapping sound.

"Okay so you're alive? What's it got to do with me? Not that I'm not happy for you or anything, but, why are you even here?"

The Archangel made ridiculous sucking noises on the candy, popping it in and out of his mouth, apparently deep in thought. Sam tried to ignore the sounds, so he settled for glaring at the ground.

"Hmm," Gabriel hummed, "Well, you pinged on my angel radar so I thought I'd stop by and pay my favorite hunter a visit!" He said excitedly.

"Great," the Winchester huffed.

"What did I do? Well, I guess a better question is 'what did I do _this_ time', or 'what _didn't_ I do'."

"It's just, wherever you go, trouble follows."

"Hey, that's just not fair," he moaned, "you are just as bad as I am. You deserve at least _some _of the credit on that one."

"What do you want with me?"

"I just wanted to see you! I don't get why that is such a big deal. After being brought back, I wanted to see a _semi-_friendly face. Sheesh."

Sam froze. "Wait, who brought you back?"

"Big Daddy, who else?"

"That was… nice of him," Sam faded out.

"Be careful Samsquatch. That could be mistaken for affection towards lil' ol' me."

The Winchester grunted but didn't say anything.

There was silence for a few moments. Gabriel had stopped sucking on that damn lollipop much to Sam's relief. The sun hit the horizon line and some trees in the distance cast their long shadows on the sun burnt Earth.

"So I see you're in a bit of a fix there," the Archangel commented, jabbing his thumb at the non-operational 1967 Impala.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Need some help?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess I do."

"Hey, speaking of Dean-o's playthings, did he finally man up and kiss my bro yet?"

Sam choked on his beer.

Gabriel slapped Sam's back a few times. "Sorry. Maybe I should've given you a little warning," he smirked.

The younger Winchester glared at him. "Yeah, maybe you could've waited until I finished drinking."

Gabriel stuck his tongue out at him, and he really didn't have it in him to stay mad.

"So, will you help then?"

"Sure kiddo!" He grinned, snapping his fingers dramatically. The engine roared to life behind them. It made a few loud _phut phut phut phut _sounds before it shut off; waiting for the keys to wake it up again.

Walking around the car to check for any damage or cheap tricks, he deemed it worthy to drive. "Thanks Gabe," Sam said, offering a small, half-smile to the grinning jackal of a man.

"I'll turn it pink if you want."


	2. Chapter 2

The ride home was uneventful. Within ten minutes Sam had arrived back at the crappy motel the Winchester brothers had decided to crash in for the time being. They were hunting something that looked like it would turn out to be a pack of either werewolves or skinwalkers. The Winchester brothers couldn't really tell at this point. It didn't matter, of course, because they both could be killed the same way; with silver bullets.

"Hey dude, why didn't you answer your phone?" Sam asked Dean, who was drinking a beer and looking through this months' Asian porn magazine on the couch. He had hoped that at least there would be a good reason for his brother's silence.

"I didn't get any calls."

"Well, I must have called five or ten times."

"Sorry man. What was the problem?"

Sam hesitated. It's not like this was _that _big of a deal, provided that the Archangel stayed out of their way. "Uh, I called to see if you needed anything from the store. It was closed anyways. Doesn't matter."

"Ah," Dean grunted, giving the rest of his attention to the naked women in the print.

The taller Winchester sighed and collected his clothes from his luggage bag to take a shower. The bathroom wasn't much cleaner than the actual room; questionable stains littered the walls and floors, even a few on the ceiling. It was also an offensive shade of bright neon green. Whoever thought that was a good idea should be put in jail. Luckily the water pressure was good; there was even hot water. That happened close to never.

He took a longer shower than actually necessary. Dean didn't bother him, and the hot water never seemed to run out. It was only after about twenty minutes that his older brother clambered at the door (until there was a serious chance it would fall off its hinges), did he shut off the water and give Dean the full control of the most sacred place in their impromptu-residence.

Putting on only a semi-white shirt and boxers, he got into the unusually soft bed and dozed for a few minutes.

"What the fuck Sammy? Next time save me some warm water! This stuff is _freezing!_"

"It was hot when I was in," Sam mumbled back; Dean, having no chance to hear it.

He was asleep seconds later.

Sunlight through the dirty windows woke him the next day. He sat up, the bed creaking and complaining beneath his massive weight. He felt more rested than he had in… well years. How long had he slept? The Winchester looked around for his brother, finding the place one-hundred percent empty. No brother to be found.

Turning to the old analog clock on the dresser, he read it to be 7:28 AM. He had been asleep for _9 hours?_

What was even more frightening was that Dean was awake before he was, and had gone _outside_ before he did!

Throwing on a pair of jeans and changing into one of the many plaid shirts that he owned, Sam looked around for his jacket. It was lying on the chair next to the small table in the shitty motel "kitchen" their room was equipped with. He grabbed it, sending something flying across the room and landing next to the foot of his bed.

His cell phone.

Sam patted down the rest of his jacket, feeling a hard bulge in the right pocket. He dug his hand into the fabric, pulling out his demon knife and a lollipop.

"Gabriel," he growled, picking up his phone off the floor, "What the hell did you do this time?"

"Hey Sammy, you rang?"

"You!"

"Me! Whacha want, Sam-I-Am?"

"What did you do to Dean?"

"Dean? Uh, nothing as far as I can remember-"

"Seriously Gabriel this isn't funny!"

"I didn't do anything to him. If I did, you'd know."

"Oh," he said, slightly startled, not completely convinced. Where was he? "Well, uh, do you know where he is?"

The Archangel pursed his lips. "Hmm… Have I seen him…?" He drawled. Sam shot him an exasperated look, so he continued. "I think he went to the store to get supplies; last I heard was that you stopped by said store, but they _seemed_ to be closed."

"It wasn't a big deal, I didn't want to worry Dean," Sam said, defending himself. "He doesn't need to know about you unless you're planning on killing us both again."

"That was one time I killed Dean! I never killed you! Well, I guess it was _many _times I killed Dean, but that's not the point. Besides, I've never killed you. If _I'm _not a big enough deal to bring up to your bro, then what is? Sammy-kinz, frankly, I'm insulted! I would have thought that the best Archangel _ever _is worthy of at least a little hint!"

The Winchester sighed, dodging the question. "So, he's at the store?"

Gabriel grunted. Sam took it as a sign of approval.

"Okay then. Thanks again I guess."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever," the man said, waving a dismissing hand in the air, summoning a bag of M&M's, sitting down on the chair where Sam's jacket had been sitting; and seemingly forgetting the entire conversation.

A thought struck Sam then. "Hey, did you take my knife and phone yesterday?"

Gabriel stopped eating. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, they disappeared right before you showed up yesterday afternoon, and they just re-appeared before you showed up."

"Hmm. Hey, want one?" He smirked, holding up the brown bag of candies.

He was about to decline, but something about the Archangel's expression made him change his mind at the last minute. "Fine," he grunted, taking a seat on the bed next to the chair.

Reaching his hand into the bag, he took out a few of the small chocolates. "These aren't poisoned, right?" Sam sniffed the food in his upturned palm.

"Pfft, I'm not that boring, Sammy. That's not creative at all."

_Screw it,_ Sam thought, downing the chocolate. Gabriel beamed, making something in Sam's chest flutter.

"So," he started, "What have you been doing since… Well, you know…"

"Since Lucy stabbed me in the chest? Well, it was about a week after then I was brought back. I think it was somewhere in Oregon, or Maine… I don't really know nor care. Well, anyways, as I got my bearings I hightailed it straight to a gay club in Brazil. Man, now _that _was a-"

"Please, stop!" Sam cried. "Leave that stuff out and get back to the important stuff!"

"Suit yourself Sammy-boy. After the club, I distinctly remember smiting a few douches here and there-"

Sam glared at him, so he continued on.

"Hmm, what else… Oh! There was Detroit."

The taller man visibly stiffened.

"Do you want the details?" The Archangel asked; concern visibly etched on his face, though it was quickly hidden behind a smirk and the phrase; "Am I scaring you Sammich?"

"Keep going," he said; voice taunt and emotionless.

"Sure thing, Samsquatch. I happened to be in Michigan at the time, close enough to Detroit to know that you chuckleheads were up to no good. What were you thinking? Going up against my bro like that? Shit, I knew you guys were suicidal, but I didn't know just _how _suicidal. Then you said yes! If I had had the chance, I would've gone in there and smote you myself! How could you even do that?"

"Gabe," Sam whined, a warning note in his voice. "I don't need this from you."

Gabriel visibly deflated. "Just… don't do that to m-anyone ever again. Promise me," the Archangel's voice became soft. Sam pretended not to notice.

"I promise."

Outside, the Impala's engine could be heard, growing louder by the second.

"Uh-oh, Dean-o is back," the trickster complained, moving to snap his fingers and disappear.

"Wait!" Sam said, snatching his arm. "When are you gonna be back?"

Gabriel seemed surprised. "You want me to come back?"

Sam coughed uncertainty. "Uh, well, if you want to… And as long as you don't do anything to hurt us, I guess I'd be nice."

Gabriel considered for a second.

"Sure thing, Sammich. Just pray if ya' need me."


	3. Chapter 3

It turned out to be neither werewolves nor skinwalkers. The thing they were hunting actually turned out to be Fenrir from Norse mythology. Sam and Dean had gone out to look for the pack in the middle of the night two days after Sam had last talked to Gabriel. Guns loaded with silver bullets, they had charged into the woods expecting for the hunt to be a snap.

But _nooo._

The Winchesters never could get a break.

They had figured out it was Fenrir, and not werewolves, pretty quickly. Mainly because of two reasons. One; there was only one wolf, and it was the size of a freaking grizzly bear. Two; the thing had morphed into a man after the first few shots and threatened them personally. It announced that he, was in fact; Fenrir, the Norse wolf-god and if they were so dull as to actually _attack _him than he would return the favor. Actually, he had said that he would "Pull their hearts through their mouths and make them watch," but they had gotten the hell out of dodge long before he could finish his speech.

Fenrir wasn't stupid of course. He was hard enough to evade let alone kill.

So, the Winchester brothers had quickly concocted a plan to split up; Sam headed up the ravine to look for higher ground as Dean lured Fenrir towards him, when he would try and take out the massive animal-man with merely silver bullets, a handgun and an idiot's hope that they would at least make it out of there alive.

In the distance, Sam heard the faint howling of the wolf, growing closer at an alarming rate.

_Shit. We are going to die, here; tonight, _Sam thought.

Sam checked the handgun to see if it was still loaded. Check. He clicked the safety off. Check. Sam hid himself further in the bushes and underbrush around him, the moon giving a slight silver light to see by. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to get an accurate shot or two in.

There was a loud crashing through the trees to Sam's left. He could hear Dean's panicked "_Sammy, Sammy!"_ followed by animalistic huffing and growls.

The Winchester took aim.

Dean burst into the clearing, pumping his arms as fast as they would physically go. He catapulted down the glade, nearly ramming into several trees, rocks and in one case an old, startled raccoon. A second later, the largest wolf Sam had ever seen flung itself into his vision, chasing Dean; tongue lolling out of its massive jaws. He pointed the muzzle of the barrel towards the creature.

"Sammy! Don't you _dare_ fire that gun!" came a slightly panicked, snarky voice from behind him, causing the younger Winchester to jump and nearly tumble off the cliff he was perched on.

"Gabriel! What the _fuck?_" he shouted. "Dean is down there!"

"Let me handle it! Put the damn gun down!" he fumed, and then he was gone.

The Winchester eyed the weapon in his hand. Could he really trust Gabriel? If he couldn't, well, he and Dean were both dead. This would be his only chance to save his brother. Otherwise, Fenrir would, without a doubt, devour them.

It's not like they had a snowball's chance in the first place.

If he _could _trust Gabriel, well, they could get out of this situation alive, and possibly even _unharmed_. Of course, it all depended on the Archangel. Making his decision, Sam snapped the safety on his gun again. Tense, he glanced over the edge of the cliffside. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the light again from the dark of the bushes where he was hiding.

Dean was passed out underneath a small pile of rocks and rubble. He was still clutching his gun tightly to his bloody chest, a grimace on his face. Sam expected him to jump up at any second but he didn't.

"Fenrir!" He heard Gabriel shout.

The dog flinched and looked around for the Archangel, surprised.

"Yes you, Fenrir! What do you think you are doing?"

The wolf-god morphed into a man again. The wild-looking man was perhaps just as tall as Sam, which in itself was impressive. He wore a loincloth-like fabric around his waist, and it was actually, _really_ clean from what the Winchester could see. The man also was growing a beard. Fenrir's skin held a darker tone, and his gloomy brown hair rolled down his shoulders. In fact; the god looked a lot like himself, which made Sam pretty darn uncomfortable.

"Loki? What are you doing here?"

"Stopping _you_ from killing _him_," Gabriel said, pointing a thumb casually at Sam's unconscious older brother. "So I suggest you leave."

To Sam's astonishment, Fenrir the friggin' _giant wolf god_ lowered his head and muttered something Sam couldn't hear, apparently backing down.

"That's better. Now, run along and go chew your butt or something."

More to Sam's utter amazement, Fenrir slunk into the woods, defeated.

"Sammy-kinz, you can come out now!" The trickster called in a teasing voice.

The taller Winchester clambered out of his hiding place, descending the fifteen or so feet from the clifftop quickly to where Gabriel was standing.

"What was that, Winchester?" Gabriel barked causing Sam to flinch, "You promised _not _to get into trouble anymore!"

"I'm sorry Gabriel," Sam said, frowning. "I didn't know you cared so much."

"'Course I do Sammy! You're my favorite hunter!"

"I'm sorry," the hunter repeated.

Gabriel let out a long, tense sigh. "Swear to me Sammich never to do that again," he said earnestly, eyes boring into his own.

"I won't Gabriel." Sam promised.

"Swear?"

"Yes."

"Good, anything else you'd like to say to lil' ol' me?" The trickster asked, humor filling his tone again.

"Ah, right. Well, thanks for saving my butt again, you annoying pigeon."

"No problem kiddo. Why don't you go grab your heap of a brother and I'll even snap ya' two back to that thing you call home-base?"

"Wow Gabe, I'd never have pinned you as the parenting type."

"Whadda ya' mean?" The Archangel asked, glancing towards where Fenrir had disappeared.

"Driving me home and everything?"

"Oh yeah, that. Well, you know me," he said lightly, not really paying attention. "You are going to need to make this up to me though."

"Make what up?"

"Breaking your promise!"

"Oh, I guess so. I owe you one Gabriel, especially after tonight. What did you do to him anyways?" The hunter asked, pointing towards the woods.

"Fenrir? Oh, you could say we have history."

"Care to explain?"

"Not really."

Sam sighed. "Fine. You're lucky Dean is still unconscious, otherwise he would probably being be frying your ass in holy oil.

The Archangel looked horrified. "You wouldn't let him bake my sweet ass, would you Sammy-boy?"

"I don't know, Gabe…" Sam teased, smiling.

"Well, we better get him home before he sees me then!" Gabriel exclaimed.

Seconds after Sam had brushed the dirt off of his brother, he found himself back at the motel, with his arms full of Dean Winchester and not a trickster in sight.


	4. Chapter 4

The Archangel showed up every day after the hunt. Sometimes Sam would be sitting on the bed, researching a new creature topic when the bed would dip and he would find Gabriel next to him, leaning over practically into his lap and invading his personal space to read what he was reading. Sometimes Dean would be putting gas into the Impala and picking up a coffee for Sam in the convenience store when the Archangel would randomly pop in for two minutes.

Once he had found himself with a lap full of Gabriel when he was on the toilet. Sam wouldn't talk to the trickster for two days afterwards; but, he found himself unable to stop smiling and blushing at the memory.

It wasn't long before Castiel began to pick up on his brother's presence during his brief visits.

Castiel had never been the most powerful or insightful of angels; but he would need to be dead to not be able to pick up Gabriel's all-powerful grace. At first, approximately two hours, sixteen minutes and forty-nine seconds after the Winchester's run-in with Fenrir, he had stopped by to see if Dean (he loved Sam, but Dean pervaded his thoughts at all hours of the day and he had no idea why) had at all been harmed. That's when he saw it.

Samuel Winchester was glowing.

Not in the literal sense. It was as if Sam Winchester's soul was almost shrouded in a thin layer of gold mist. Not wanting to bother either of the brother's with this insight, he kept it to himself. But in whatever free time he had, Castiel investigated this new turn of events.

He just hoped that maybe, for once, this was not a malevolent turn of events.

"But Sammy! I want some!"

Gabriel was sitting cross-legged on the backseat of the Impala. Sam was withholding the bad of granola in his right hand and fending off the overexcited Pagan god with the other form the front seat.

"No Gabriel! I always give you my food! Let me have it for once."

"But _Sammy!_"

"No!"

Gabriel huffed and relaxed into the leather interior of the car, looking sullenly at the hunter while he took a pinch of the granola and dried fruit mix, tipping his head back and exposing that _very nice _neck of his, then pouring the sustenance into his open mouth.

"Sammich…?"

"Hmm?" Hummed Sam in response.

"You know, you still owe me."

"Mmm," he hummed again.

"I'll be back tonight, when Dean is gone," Gabriel said, watching Dean as he returned from emptying a plastic bag full of trash from the Impala across the parking lot.

"As per usual," the younger Winchester chimed.

The Archangel stuck out his tongue, making sure he saw it in the rearview mirror before disappearing along with Sam's bag of fruit and granola, just as the driver's door swung open to reveal Dean Winchester.

"Hey man, you ready to go?"

"Yeah."

Dean grunted, swung his body into the car, and drove her off into the oncoming traffic. His brother switched on the radio and flipped through the stations, but finding all they played was My Little Pony songs in every available language. Sam was trying desperately to stifle his laughter but to no avail. If anything could pull a laugh out of Sam Winchester, it was the older hunter screaming like a girl at children's shows theme songs.

After about five minutes of torture, Dean shut off the radio with a loud sigh and a few choice swear words.

Five minutes after that; Dean commented that he was glad Sam still knew how to laugh.

"'Course I do, don't you?"

"Yeah," his brother retorted, "I just meant that you seem happier. Care to spill the secret?"

"I don't know man. It's been pretty smooth since we finished off the apocalypse."

"Yeah, I guess you're right there. Hope it lasts."

That was the last they spoke for the duration of the trip back to the motel of the week. It was a comfortable silence, not at all like the ones they shared during the end of times when Sam had been hopped up on demon blood and Dean had cast him a wary glance every time his little brother did so much as shifted in his seat.

The younger hunter completely agreed with his brother. He too hoped that their luck would last. Because if there was one constant in their ever-changing lives, it was that when they got lucky, shit bit them in the heels and dragged them down even farther than before.

As soon as they arrived back at base, Dean announced that he was heading out again to some local bar he had seen when they arrived into town. Sam grunted and offered a half-wave to his brother, who was already out the door. Sam just hoped that he wouldn't come back with a girl.

The hunter waited a few minutes to call Gabriel, only to make sure that Dean would stay gone. When nobody showed up, he deemed it safe enough to call the Archangel.

"Hey, Gabe, Dean left for the night, it's cool to come down."

"Aww Samsquatch, I'm touched you remembered our little meeting!"

"I'm just surprised that you weren't here the minute he left. Don't you have anything better to do than hang out with me?" Sam asked with an undercurrent of self-loathing.

The trickster suddenly turned serious. In fact, just as serious as when Dean insulted his family in front of him when they were in the crack universe he had constructed and trapped the pair in. "Don't you say that Sam. I haven't met anyone as good as you, not in a long time."

The hunter smiled slightly. "Really?"

"Yes. You're actually one of the most righteous people I have ever met in my excruciatingly long life."

"If you say so."

The trickster apparently felt the need to make his point hit home. "Sam Winchester, do you want me to make a speech? Because I will, and I'm warning you, it'll probably sound gay as hell."

"Gabe-" Sam started.

"Fine, you asked for it. Sam, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met. Not just how you look –by the way, you _do_ have a great ass, although not as good as mine- but your soul is the best piece of work I have ever seen. You are constantly sacrificing yourself for the good of others, you have more morality in a toe than practically all of the Earth, and I may or may not be in love with you. I'm not sure, because I can't exactly remember what it's like to love someone, so I'm going to go by this constant nagging feeling that I should be showering you in puppies and hugs and ice cream _okay_?"

Sam had no idea what to say. In fact, he was pretty sure he wasn't breathing. That, in fact, turned out to be true because soon the Archangel was shouting at him to "breath, damn you Winchester!"

"Uh…" he struggled, still not exactly breathing.

"I should really find that instruction manuel if you're going to keep breaking down like this."

"Uh… Wow… That was… very gay."

The angel snorted. "The great moose speaks! Give him a cookie."

A cookie appeared in Sam's lap, and he blushed for no reason whatsoever.

"When… did this happen?" Sam asked. "When did you fall in love with me?"

"Well, probably around the time we first met but I didn't realize it until you threatened my life over the jelly."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that."

"I'm not."

"Since we're talking about that; I'd just like to say that I forgive you for everything. Killing Dean, smiting those jerks back at the college, and even the Japanese game show."

It was Gabriel's turn to be speechless. Forgiveness? Nobody had ever granted him that. "You still owe me a favor, Winchester."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Kiss me."

Sam didn't; no, couldn't respond. The trickster took this as a good sign, because he sat down next to Sam on the bed, gliding closer and closer. The hunter stayed in place, watching the Archangel's movements closely, pondering if this was a good idea or not. One part of his mind was screaming "he is going to trick you, get him away from you we can't trust him," and; not surprisingly, sounded an awful lot like Dean.

The rest of him, however, wanted this very, very badly.

"Last chance to back out Sammich," Gabriel whispered, their breath entwining together.

"No… way… pigeon."

Smirking, he pulled down Sam's head and sealed his lips to his. The hunter lost all train of thought as Gabriel kissed him. Everything was replaced with a humming satisfaction and a quiet –yet growing rapidly- need for more.

All too soon, they broke apart for breath. More specifically, Sam's. Eyes glazed, the Winchester stared blankly at Gabriel's smiling face.

"Liked that, didn't you Samsquatch?"

"Shut up."

The Archangel's head turned sharply towards the door. "Uh-oh, Deano is back. I have to run."

"Will you be back?" Sam all but whined.

"Of 'course I will! How could I leave such a hot piece of ass by itself?" He said, fastening his lips against Sam's quickly.

"'Kay," he replied, still pretty out of it.

Laughing, the Archangel was gone with a snap, and the faint smell of chocolate; leaving the hunter still smiling like an idiot even when Dean walked in towing a skimpy girl in behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam made it five minutes hiding in the bathroom and listening to Dean with the girl of the week before calling Gabriel.

"Gabriel, if you're listening; please, _please _help me," he thought desperately.

"Whacha need Sammy-boy?" Gabriel whispered suddenly, directly next to his ear and making him shiver slightly.

"Dean is loud, and I can't take it anymore."

"We could walk in there and stop it right now if you wanted," the Archangel teased.

"_Fuck no_."

Gabriel sighed. "Fine. Want to swing by my place?"

"You live somewhere?" the hunter blurted.

"Shh! Do you want your brother to hear us? Yes I do! What do you think I do all the time?"

"I assumed you smited jerks all the time and maybe drunk until you couldn't see straight in various gay clubs around the world."

"Hey, I resent that!" Gabriel pouted.

"Yeah, whatever. Can we go before I get _too_ mentally scarred?"

"Fine Sammich," grunted the trickster, pressing two fingers to Sam's temple.

To Sam, the entire world seemed to shift slightly, as if he had just been yanked backwards through an airplane engine and spat out again all within a second. Swallowing the sudden urge to hurl everything he had eaten in the past few hours, Sam forced himself to look about his new surroundings. It was a large cabin overlooking valleys and snow-covered trees could be seen out through the large bay windows. But that wasn't the best part.

No.

There was a _huge_ leather couch in the middle of the room. In fact, it was large enough to accommodate Sam Winchester himself. Little did the hunter know, but Gabriel had gone specifically to a little shop in Germany to pick out the couch himself, taking special care to make sure it was large enough to hold the moose of a man. Out loud, he would never admit to this, of course.

"Gabriel, this is amazing!" Sam breathed.

"I know. Just wait until you see my TV show and movie collection!"

"Hey, do you have Doctor Who? I've always wanted to see that."

"Of course I do! What do you take me for?"

"Can we watch it?"

"Anything you want."

Sam was quiet for a couple seconds, and then he smiled brightly at the trickster. "Thanks man."

Gabriel unconsciously stepped closer to Sam, and Sam in turn, didn't seem to notice. He merely relaxed down into the couch, pulling the Archangel behind him. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the large flat screen television in front of the sofa sprang to life and began broadcasting the first season of the new Doctor Who seasons. As Rose and the Doctor went through the motions, he watched Sam's face react to their adventures. It just as entertaining as the TV show playing right by him. What he wouldn't give for another kiss.

After about ten minutes, the younger Winchester noticed his lack of interest. "Aren't you watching?"

Oh, he was watching something alright. "Kinda," he muttered off-handedly.

The hunter only shrugged, saying something along the lines of "if you say so," then draping his overly muscled arm around Gabriel's shoulders and pulling him closer to his warm body. It was all he could do not to purr in contentment while he leaned his head against the taller man's shoulder. They stayed in that position until Rose ran into the TARDIS for the first time. Sam had actually fallen asleep, so the trickster paused the television with not so much as a snap, and got up to seek out a blanket.

Finding one fairly quickly strewn out messily in one of the various rooms in the cabin, he grabbed it and returned to Sam's side. The Winchester was still, his face peaceful and that made Gabriel beam. Covering the hunter up, he arranged his limbs in a more comfortable position and decided to "sleep" himself. He slumped down on a chair diagonal from the couch where the moose was slumbering, and relaxed into the fabric; snapping up a blanket for himself as well, closing his eyes and drifted.

Sam, who had not been completely asleep, watched Gabriel seek out his sheet from his incomprehensive state. Smiling, he too, coasted off to sleep wholly and fully, feeling content for the first time in a very long time.

The sun that blared in through the bay windows was not what woke the hunter the next morning. It was the smell of fresh bacon and eggs permeating the air, making his mouth water substantially.

Suddenly, reality struck Sam. "Dean!" he shouted, toppling off the couch and falling into an unceremonious heap on the wood flooring.

"Sammy! You're up! I was beginning to worry. Do you usually sleep ten hours?"

"I slept _ten hours?_ Dean is gonna kill you! Or me, but also you!"

"Relax Samsquatch. Time works differently here. You could stay here for months and I could still get you back to Dean practically the moment you left. Though, something tells me that that is a bad idea."

"Don't even remind me," Sam shuddered, "Are you sure I can get back on time?"

"Yes I am sure. In the meantime, have some bacon and eggs. I got them fresh off of a farmer in 1800's Scotland."

"You're joking."

"A trickster I may be but a liar I am not."

"Wow; this is the most trouble anyone has ever gone through for me to get me breakfast. That's saying something because Dean had to live with me through puberty," the younger Winchester laughed.

"Pssht, that was nothing. You should have seen what Michael and Lucifer had to go through when _I _was going through puberty," the Archangel scoffed.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Once, when Dad was still around, I got a hold of this thing he used to make animals… Let's just say I got a beaver and a duck screwed up."

"You made the platypus?" Sam gasped.

"It was supposed to be a flying bird that could swim too! I didn't mean to! And the worst part was Dad just put it in Australia with all the other rejects!" Gabriel exclaimed, shoveling generous amounts of bacon and scrambled eggs onto a blue plate and setting it down in front of the Winchester, who was too bust laughing to really notice.

"There was another time when I was outgrowing my baby feathers, and they were shedding _everywhere_. It was a mess. There were feathers all over Heaven; they were making everybody else pretty uncomfortable. Back when Michael or Lucifer was young, there weren't many angels to get in the way. I guess Raphael would have had it worse… So anyways, you couldn't really go anywhere without trailing my things."

"What happened?" Sam asked through a mouthful of egg.

"I ended up pissing Michael off so much that he came and stripped my wings clean. Of course, it's not like my plumage is normal, so they kinda… stuck… to him for the next few hundred years. Man that was the _best_! Seeing him waddle around like a giant sore chicken for three hundred-odd ages is definably one of my favorite memories."

Sam laughed, setting down his fork on the counter. "I remember once I glued Dean's beer bottle to his hand with super glue. It's not nearly as good as Michael covered in feathers, but I thought it had been pretty funny."

"You did not."

"I did."

"I would have given my angel blade to see that! We have got to get him again like that," the Archangel hooted.

"We haven't done a prank war since the apocalypse."

"Well, We'll just have to start it up again, now wont we?" said Gabriel, ruffling Sam's hair playfully.

Sam smirked, grabbing Gabe's hand before he could pull it away and giving the back of his palm a shy kiss before releasing it again.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Samsquatch."

"Hmm," the hunter hummed, shoveling another bite of egg into his open mouth, "I'll bet." He swallowed before standing up, stepping closer to the trickster. "I think…" he took another step closer, "I'll risk it."

Gabriel reached out, pulling Sam closer. His fingers closed around the fabric of Sam's plaid shirt, and lightly scraping the skin on his back. He smirked when Sam gave a full body shiver. Pulling the Winchester down to his level, he brushed his lips across the taller man's. Sam responded eagerly, closing the centimeters of distance between them and sealing his lips to Gabriel's.

The hunter's fingers pushed their way under the Archangel's T-shirt, and it was all he could do to hold back a moan. Damn, Sam just had to be so _hot_. So, instead, Gabriel stood on his toes, broke their kiss, and then put his mouth next to the Winchester's ear.

"You never finished your breakfast," he said breathlessly. Pecking him quickly on the cheek, he stepped back from the taller man, fixed his shirt and disappeared.

Gabriel didn't want to do that with Sam until he knew for sure that his love was returned. That didn't mean he couldn't tease though.


	6. Chapter 6

True to Gabriel's word, they began to plan the biggest prank Sam could ever even comprehend. It involved many pieces of handwritten notes, a crap ton of glue, and more photos than Sam had ever seen in one place at one time. It also was going to take a long, long time to finish.

"Hey kiddo, you want to stay here for a while?" Gabriel asked coolly, though, he was freaking out inside. "At least until we get this done," he tacked on.

"You said I'll be able to get back to Dean on time?"

"Yep," the other man replied, popping the "p" loudly.

"I guess then. You don't mind?"

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't."

"Good. Then you can help me write out these messages," said Sam, holding out a pen to the Archangel. "It's not going to write itself."

"I guess it won't… Unless _I _want it to of course," smirked Gabriel, plopping down on a kitchen chair next to Sam Winchester.

"We're gonna do this by hand, okay? No angel mojo."

"Got it. _Noooooo angellll mojoooooo…_"

"Yeah."

"None_ at allll…"_

Sam threw him bitch-face number twenty-nine, so the trickster shut up and grabbed a pen from next to the other man.

About an hour later, Gabriel was getting pretty bored. Writing out sentence after sentence on scraps of paper for extended periods of time wasn't really his forte. What would it take to move this giant? He tried in vain for the past forty-five minutes to get Sam to do various things like go out for ice-cream, watch a movie, and even once he debated just _jumping _him. He doubted the kid would really like that very much.

So, he formulated another plan.

Using his angelic powers (not to mess with their not-so-little project, mind you), Gabriel summoned a storm outside. Within five minutes, it was snowing fairly hard. He made sure not to let it spiral off into a full blown out blizzard of course. Last time he let that happen, Earth got mammoths and Ice Age 3 the movie.

"Sammy, look! It's snowing!"

Sam turned to look out the window. "Yeah, it is," he said, smiling slightly. "It's been a little while, Dean and I always go south for the Winter."

"That's horrible! When's the last time you had a snowball fight?"

"Uh, the last time was a long time ago. Why?"

Throwing the Winchester a shit-eating grin, he snapped his fingers, instantly transporting the pair outside, already bundled up in puffy jackets, snow pants, boots etc. He, of course, had taken the liberty to turn Sam's clothes bright pink.

"Gabriel!" Sam (he would forever deny afterwards) shrieked, staring in utter horror at the jacket. "Change it!"

"But Sammich, you look like a princess!"

"Gabriel!"

"Fine!" sighed the trickster, snapping his fingers and changing the shade to a more of a light baby pink. Though, he didn't think it constituted the snowball to the face.

"Oh, you're gonna get it kiddo!" he said, constructing a large snowball with his fists, making sure it pack it down tightly. Another shot hit the back of his exposed neck.

Flipping around, he hurled the projectile at the hunter, who just barely managed to dodge it before returning fire of his own. Gabriel, laughing manically, disappeared and reappeared behind the moose, smashing his snowball on top of his head. Roaring; Sam spun around and bear-tackled the trickster, driving him into the deep snow.

"I concede," Gabriel said in surrender. "Do with me what you will," he tacked on mischievously.

"What are the terms of your surrender?" the younger Winchester said in a fake military officer voice.

"Hmm… I want to make sure that you don't do anything you'll regret."

Sam lowered his head down to Gabriel's, and put his mouth next to his ear. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Whatever you want it to mean."

Sam lowered his head to Gabriel's jawline, where he planted a soft kiss. It was soothing, full of affection and a low desire to add more. Gabriel sighed softly.

The hunter felt more confident now, so he placed his mouth atop the Pagan god's and slid his hand behind his head to get a better angle. The snow started falling harder now; it fell in Sam's hair and made it look white. Some fell on Gabriel's face, making it twitch in irritation.

"Care to drag this inside?" Sam muttered against his skin.

"Sure, why not?"

Snapping his fingers, they suddenly found themselves on the couch, a large, elaborate fireplace set up in the corner of the room. Luckily, they had also shed their coats and other winter clothing, so it wasn't unbearably hot in the cabin. It was getting pretty dark out, the snow was coming down faster and faster, and the wind was picking up gradually. Sam turned to look from their current position, giving Gabriel a questioning look.

"Did you do that?"

"Oops."

"Whatever," the hunter grunted, kissing Gabriel again; albeit much hungrier.

"Wow Sammy, slow down there…" Gabriel groaned, shifting. This was not going a little too far. Not that he was really complaining too much, but there was still one part of him that knew he and Sam would both regret it.

"What?"

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Why? What do you mean? Don't you want to?"

"Oh, hells yeah Samsquatch! But, are you?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"That's not what I mean."

"I don't-"

"Fine, you want me to say it? Fine. I love you, you stupid human! I already told you that. But do you love me?"

Sam was shocked silent. After a few moments, he spoke up again. "Of course I love you. I thought you knew that."

The Archangel tried to say something. Anything. But he was pretty sure all that came out was "eugh-rrg-hee".

"Gabe? You okay?"

He took a deep breath. "Eh-hem. I-I'm fine Sammy. But, uh… I actually have something for you. Close your eyes?"

"You're not going to spontaneously dye my hair are you?"

"Don't give me any ideas, Sammich."

Gabriel carefully removed himself from under the taller man, planting a kiss on Sam's neck for good measure. Then, he half-jogged half-ran into one of the unused rooms in the back of the cabin to retrieve a large cardboard box covered in moose-themed wrapping paper.

"Are your eyes closed Sammy-kinz?"

"Yeah. What's all this about Gabe?" asked Sam, slightly miffed about being hung out to dry.

"Okay, you can open them!" he said, placing the heavy box on the floor in front of the hunter.

"What's in there?"

"Like I'm so sure I'd tell you that. I'd ruin the surprise."

Sam still looked uncertain.

"Just open it, damn you!"

Carefully removing the paper –yes, _removing, _as in, actually taking it off without ripping any paper whatsoever- he uncovered the plain brown box. Looing even more skeptical, he began to peel off the packing tape, when the entire box jiggled; making the Winchester jump backwards and slam into the back of the couch frame.

"What the fuck is that?"

"For Dad's sake Sammich man up and _open the shitting box!_"

With a deep breath, the hunter opened the flaps, obviously expecting some kind of glitter cannon or a clown. Instead, popped out a large, gold and black German Shepherd puppy. It barked excitedly, scrabbling out of the containing with a high pitched yelp, landing at Sam's feet. Sam, on the other hand, went from completely mortified to so-happy-I-could-shit-my-pants happy.

"Gabriel! You did not!" he exclaimed, scooping the excited puppy into his massive hands and pulling it into his lap while it tried to lick his face.

"She doesn't have a name, but I knew that you really liked dogs; so I took the liberty to go out and find you one. She's a purebred from a little town in Germany known for its well-bred dogs actually," the Archangel informed him, sounding slightly unsure but unable to stop himself from smiling at the Winchester's reaction.

"Hello little girl," he cooed, petting the dog's head with a hand. "Can we call her Mary," he asked quietly. "I've always wanted to name something that."

"Anything you want Sammich."

"Hello Mary. I'm Sam; I'll take good care of you."

Gabriel smiled, leaning across the mess of fur, cardboard and wrapping paper to kiss Sam lightly on the top of his head.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam and Mary were completely inseparable from that day onwards. Not that Gabriel minded in the least of course.

"Sit," Sam told the German shepherd sternly, though he was smiling like an idiot.

Mary cocked her head to one side, tongue lolling out of her mouth. She ran up to the hunter, tail wagging at a million miles per hour and jumped up on his leg, trying to lick his hands. He groaned, pushing her back onto all fours and said "Stay."

The dog made a whining noise but stayed where she was.

"Good girl Mary."

Mary, hearing his praise, ran up to him again and repeated the process from earlier. "Mary no," the Winchester sighed.

"She's pretty smart I'd say," Gabriel said, appearing next to him.

The shepherd, seeing the Archangel come out of nowhere, barked, then ran up to him and flung herself into his crotch. Of course he hadn't been expecting that, so they both toppled over onto the wood floor, a mild pain coursing through his body.

"Mary!" He exclaimed, rolling onto his side to prevent further harm.

She scrambled over his body to where his face lay and began to lick it thoroughly.

"Sammich get this loose cannon off of me, quick!"

"Mary, come!" said the taller man. Mary made another whining noise, but removed herself from atop Gabriel and trotted across the room happily. "Good girl Mary," cooed the Winchester. "My good girl."

"What about me?" said the trickster, standing up and throwing his hunter the best pouty face he could muster.

"You too, Gabe."

"Except you are defiantly the girl in our relationship."

Sam stuck out his tongue and swept up the dog in his arms. Mary shoved her small head in the crook of his neck, staring out through the bay windows and outside at the backyard and woods beyond. Then she looked at Gabriel, back at the window and repeated the process several times as if to say "hey can we go for a walk? I like walks. I've never been on a walk with you guys."

Smiling, the trickster prodded Sam on the shoulder with his index finger. "It's almost twelve; wadda ya' say we take the dog for a walk? There's a pretty nice path through the woods back there," he asked, jabbing his thumb vaguely at the door leading outside to the footstep of the pine woods.

"We don't have a collar or a leash."

"We could go shopping."

"Hmm… That sounds like a good idea. We need more orange juice."

"Get some pants on then, Sammy. There should be some that fit you in my room. Second left down that hallway," smirked the Archangel.

The hunter gave Gabe a bitchface, then walked off to where he hoped some clothes were; all the while wiggling his butt in the trickster's general direction and chuckling softly when the other man whistled loudly.

Sam found the room exactly where Gabriel said it would be; the second door on the left. Stepping into the room he found it to be a light gold color, with a candy buffet, a fountain that seemed to circulate sparkling wine; huge windows overlooking the mountain the cabin was perched on, and various other trinkets. What really struck the Winchester were the hundreds of pictures of _himself_, strung around the walls, every single photo framed; and it actually pretty amazing. He had no idea how exactly Gabe got all those pictures though. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Walking over to the ones hung closest to the door, he found pictures of Sam and Dean hunting the woman in white, the wendigo; and, even old bloody Mary herself. There _was_ one picture of Meg though, it was her; crumpled and broken on the sidewalk; and a caption handwritten around the edge reading "ha ha ha!" about thirty times. Sam smiled. Of course he would do that.

There were more pictures in various groupings around the perimeter of the room; each seemingly from another chapter in the Winchester story. Sam and Castiel in a photo together, talking about something that escaped Sam's mind but they both looked infinitely uncomfortable. Sam eating a salad from a nondescript shop somewhere in Ohio. Werewolf hunting in Colorado. Sam killing demons (and _he_ thought, looking as badass as ever with his demon knife) in a warehouse. Sam drinking water from a plastic cup. Sam stabbing a Jefferson Starship. Sam eating another salad. Sam trying to get _Dean_ to eat a salad. Sam sleeping in the backseat of the Impala. Sam smiling at someone who wasn't pictured; but the Archangel had photoshopped himself into the picture, smiling back at Sam.

Realizing he was taking a long time, he quickly dug out some jeans from Gabriel's drawer –they all seemed to be rather tight and that made the hunter suspicious-, put them on and rushed out back into the living room to find Gabriel waiting for him with a leash, collar with moose heads embroidered around the material, and a bottle of orange juice in his hands.

"You were taking a while so I just decided to get them myself. Do you like it?" said the trickster, holding up the dog supplies -while Mary danced around his feet, wagging her tail excitedly- for Sam to inspect.

"Ha ha very funny Gabe. I am not a moose."

"Yes you are."

"No; I'm really not."

The Archangel stuck his tongue out at the Winchester before slipping the moose-y collar around Mary's throat. He had some difficulty because that dog _would not stay still_.

"She's just like you," Sam commented. "She won't either shut up or just lay down."

"I'll lay down anytime you want me to Sammich, all you have to do is ask," he smirked mischievously.

"Let's just go before we end up not going," the hunter deadpanned.

"Aww Samsquatch can't we take a rain check?"

Mary began to pace and whine in front of the door as if in answer. "Yeah, I doubt she'll let that happen," the Winchester laughed, bending down to kiss the dog's head happily.

"Where's my kiss?"

Sam walked over to the trickster and pecked him on the lips. "Better?"

"Not really."

He kissed him again; only longer this time. Gabriel ran his hands through his long brown hair; which was actually much softer than it actually looked. Gabriel ran his tongue along Sam's bottom lip and the hunter sighed. The trickster took the chance to dive his tongue into the other's mouth, thoroughly exploring it before releasing the Winchester. To Gabriel's utter contentment, Sam nearly collapsed.

"I'm good now."

"You're a shit," Sam mumbled, not at all meaning what he said.

"Let's take her on a walk before she wears a hole in my floor with her pacing."


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was high in the sky as Mary, Gabriel and Sam left the house to embark on the walk; which was sure to be an adventure because none of them were feeling particularly mature. Gabriel kept pinching Sam's ass; Mary was running around the pair of them, tying the Archangel and the hunter together, and Sam was attempting to trip Gabriel at every possible moment. And each time Gabriel fell over (mostly because he let himself; he did not at all actually topple over the first time), and each time their German shepherd puppy ran up to his face and began to lick it all over again.

The woods were bright with fallen leaves from the few hardwood trees and pine needles. Most of the snow from their snowball fight a few days ago had melted, making walking rather easy. Gabriel made sure to keep his hunter warm by giving him a steady trickle of his Grace.

Sam slung his arm around Gabriel's shoulder, holding the leash in his other hand, periodically leaning down to kiss the Archangel on the top of his head, the tip of his nose, or anywhere he could reach with convenience. He wore such a content, easy smile that it made Gabriel's heart swell way past where the Grinch's heart could ever hope to reach.

"Look at that," Sam said some time into their walk, pointing towards a purple flowering plant. "Common rhododendron. It makes your pulse get weak and make it seem like you're dead."

"Really?" Gabriel mused. "Maybe that's how Sherlock did it."

"Who did what?"

"Nevermind. Just keep walking."

Sam grunted but did what he was told. The sun was beginning to dip its way back towards night. They were a good few miles from the cabin, and the woods just seemed to stretch forever.

"How far are we going to go Gabe? Don't get me wrong, this is seriously one of the best times I have ever had, but I don't want to be out here too late."

"There is this one place I want to get to. We shouldn't be too far now."

"What is it?"

"You Winchesters and your need to spoil presents before you unwrap them," he teased lightly.

Sam chuckled, leaning down to capture Gabriel's lips in his. "You make it so damn hard not to," he said against the other's skin.

"Mmm I love you Sammich."

"I love you too Pigeon."

"You're mine."

"Haven't I been for a while? I mean, jeez all you've done is interfere in my life."

"Not without good intentions Sammy-kinz. Ah! Here we are! Prepare yourself for the best thing ever after me!"

Slapping his hand across the younger Winchester's eyes, Gabriel led him into a clearing in the forest. The hunter could hear water running from somewhere to his left, and a few birds everywhere else.

"Where are we?" Sam asked.

"Stop asking!"

"Fine," the Winchester huffed.

"Keep your eyes shut. I'll know if you don't. Got it?"

"Yeah."

The hand removed itself from his face. There was the sound of leaves rustling and feet pounding on the ground. Something like fabric was being dragged over the grass and dirt as well.

"Okay, open them!"

Sam opened his eyes to find two things.

One; he was standing in a surreal clearing surrounded by tall evergreen trees and cliffs. A small waterfall was draining into a pool at the base of the highest Cliffside.

The second thing would be the stereotypical chick flick picnic from every bad movie Sam had ever _not seen_ set up in the very center of the clearing. The blanket was a pale yellow color which matched the leaves strewn on the ground. A large closed basket lay in the middle of the fabric with plates and silverware set up circling around it.

"You are too good to me Gabe."

"Nothing is too good for you kiddo," Gabriel smiled, standing on his tiptoes and pecking Sam's cheek. "You really like it?"

"It's _amazing_."

"Just wait until you see what I brought."

The Archangel grabbed Sam's hand and dragged him over to the blanket and sat him down on the side that held a view of the waterfall. He took the seat across from him, opened the basket and pulled out various servings of food.

"Where's Mary?"

"Back at the cabin, probably having the time of her life."

"Oh. What's in there?"

"I brought you the best salad I could find. It's made fresh from a restaurant in southern Italy. Those are olives by the way, I don't know what kind of olives, but they look good. Here's a baguette… I couldn't leave Europe –being so close to France anyways- without a baguette. This is a strawberry jello pretzel square thing. I forget what exactly what they call them but it's delicious…"

"This is the most trouble anyone has gone through for me just to give me a good day. Thank you."

"It was nothing Sammich. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"I'd kiss you if I weren't going to smash all of the food."

"Then go around it."

Smiling widely; the hunter half-crawled about the basket and kissed the trickster on the corner of his mouth, breathing in his sugary scent before seating himself back in his original spot, still beaming like the giant moose-y idiot he was.

Gabriel handed him the plastic-wrapped bowl of lettuce leaves and foreign olives. "Are you gonna eat now?"

He took the container and emptied generous amounts of salad onto the plate in front of him, then taking a bottle of Italian dressing and putting small quantities of it on top. The Archangel cut a slab of the baguette for himself, buttering it and popping liberal measures of the bread into his mouth, watching Sam as he did the same with his.

About an hour later, they were both stuffed. That was saying a lot because Gabriel could eat _vast _amounts of food without getting full. The same went for the Winchester, though on a less celestial wavelength.

"Hey, Gabe," the hunter asked nervously.

"Yeah kiddo?"

"I think it's time I went back to Dean."

Gabriel froze. Had he done something wrong? He covered up his confusion and uncertainty with his usual trickster persona. "How come?"

"Well, I've been here two weeks already. It's not that I don't love it here; actually, it's the closest I've ever come to a home; but I can't stay here forever. Dean needs me too."

"Sammy, you can call this your home if you want. You are always welcome here," the Archangel said honestly.

The hunter's heart seemingly melted at that point. "Thanks Gabriel. But I still need to go back."

"So… this is it?" asked Gabriel.

"Who said that? Not me. I just mean that maybe I could go back with Dean and perhaps take some breaks here. Besides… I think that if I'm dating an Archangel, he has a right to know."

Gabriel spluttered. "Oh. Good. That's good."

Sam smiled again. "It's not like I could actually stay apart from you for very long anyways."

The trickster stood up, climbed over the remains of the picnic and sat down next to the taller man. He wrapped his arms around his chest and kissed Sam's neck. "Yeah, neither could I."


	9. Chapter 9

When they were done with their picnic and had cleaned up, Gabriel had asked Sam if he wanted to go back to the cabin, keep walking or stay in the clearing. Sam chose the latter of the choices. It was starting to get dark at that point; the sun was struggling to keep shining its light over the forest. Long shadows were creeping up on the couple like sticky tendrils of ivy that clung to every surface available.

"Whacha wanna do kiddo?" Gabriel asked Sam when he had chosen.

"I thought it would be nice to relax by the waterfall. Is that okay?"

"Fine by me Samsquatch."

Sam removed his shoes and rolled up his jeans until they reached his knees and then stuck his feet into the cool water. The water warm enough that it didn't numb his extremities; and it actually was quite nice if he did say so himself. The hunter patted the spot next to him and Gabriel sat down, kissing Sam's temple as he did.

"So," Sam started, "There are some things I want you to clarify."

"Like what?" the trickster responded off-handedly.

"Why did you really help me when the Impala broke down?"

If the Archangel had been eating anything, he either would have choked or spat it out violently. But, being the all-powerful creature that he was, he was not without an iron grip of control on his actions. "Because I was in the neighborhood."

"That's not why."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"See, there it is," Sam exclaimed. "Can't you tell me, of all people?"

"It's… complicated."

"So is my life, Gabe. I think I can handle it."

"Sammy-"

"So help me Gabe I will sick Mary on you."

"Fine!" the Pagan god cried, sticking his hands in the air in mock defeat, "Anything but the dog!"

"So tell me."

"It's a long story I'm warning you now."

"I'll be fine Gabriel, just _start_. You're stalling."

With a sigh of surrender, he began to talk. "Well, there is this sort of thing where an angel kinda maybe has another… half. It's really rare and believe me this case is even rarer. Add on the fact that I'm one of a four pack of Archangels and it's got my Dad written all over it. Got all that?"

"…Yeah I think so. Do you mean… like, mated? When you say other half anyways."

The Archangel winced. "Yeah, mated is pretty accurate but it's more than that. You still good?"

"Uh huh."

"Good kiddo because here is the real kicker; you've seen it happen already. Dean and Castiel are an Angel and human pair."

"I knew it," Sam muttered under his breath.

"We all did, except those two chuckleheads. Anyways, that's pretty rare by itself. Angels –if they even find their other half so to speak- are usually mated with other Angels. Now, there are only a few cases of humans and Angels being mated; in fact, I only know of three instances."

"Wait, so do you think God had something to do with Dean and Cas?"

"I wouldn't doubt it. He had a hand in the other two cases, though _those _ended up pretty bad, mind you. Well, like I was saying, there have only been three. None of those were me, Luci, Raph or Michael. I thought we didn't _have _mates, or that's what Lucifer said anyways. I guess I was wrong," Gabriel sighed.

"…Wrong? Wrong how?"

"I thought you were the smart Winchester kiddo!" exclaimed the trickster.

"I- but, _how_?"

"That's right Sammich, you and I are Angel-married!" he said excitedly.

Much to Gabriel's delight/astonishment/worry, Sam up and _fainted_. Chuckling, the Archangel picked up his unconscious boyfriend and snapped them back to the cabin and into the room Sam had claimed for himself. Tucking the moose into the king-sized bed that Sam hardly even fit into, he pulled a few extra blankets out of the closet and carefully placed them on the mountain of a man. Brushing the brown hair out of his face, the trickster retreated from the room and prepared to meet an old friend.

"Woof, woof!" Mary barked excitedly, running up to the Archangel's feet and jumping up on his leg. Her pink tongue lolled out of her mouth and her black nose twitched as she sniffed while she sniffed the fabric of his jeans.

"Shhh you'll wake Sam," he laughed quietly.

At the word "Sam" she perked up even more and attempted to throw herself into his chest. "Woof, woof, woof!" she yapped incessantly.

"Alright, alright; come here," he said, scooping the fussy hound into his arms. She squirmed for a few seconds more, but then fell into a content silence; which actually just meant she was smothering herself too much into his coat to make much noise at all. Save for the loud breathing and the steady chewing of cotton/polyester fabric.

Holding the dog with one arm, he pulled out his phone with the other, hitting speed dial number five and turning the machine on a low speaker. It rang exactly four times before the other end picked up. "Father?"

"Hey Fenrir I need an opinion. Care to stop by?"

"Sure, which place are you at this time?"

"The cabin in the French Alps."

"Wow, why there?"

"I've got a friend here who half the world has tagged as number _one_ on their most 'wanted list'. Especially Hell."

"I see. Who exactly is 'he'?"

"I believe you've met him and his brother in Colorado a few weeks ago."

"The Winchesters? Father, you and I both know what follows the Winchesters."

"Don't give me that speech again. I do what I have to; you know that."

There was silence for a few moments over the phone. Fenrir seemed to be pondering the situation. "I will be there tomorrow afternoon," he exhaled, "Will he know I am coming?"

It was Gabriel's turn to hesitate.

"No. No he won't."


	10. Chapter 10

NOTE: Sorry I haven't uploaded in a week-ish, but I've been extremely busy with school. Please review, those seriously make my week! Thanks for reading!

DOUBLE NOTE: Sorry I had to re-upload this chapter because only part of it was uploaded yesterday. Oops.

Sam woke up the next morning feeling slightly more refreshed; apart from the pounding headache war that was raging inside of his skull. Maybe Gabriel would heal it.

Gabriel.

The last scene from the day before came rushing back at him like a horde of demons. "Oh, _shit _I'm married to an _Archangel_," he whispered to himself.

Rubbing the back of his head he slunk out of his room and headed towards the smell of muffins in the kitchen. The hallway was still dark; the sun either hadn't come up yet, or it was incredibly cloudy. Looking up at the skylights, he found it to be neither. There was at least a few inches of snow covering the glass.

"What's up with the freak snowstorms all the time?" Sam grumbled to himself, lugging his tall body down the hallway and towards the living room, where he knew the remarkably large couch would be waiting.

"Woof, woof!"

A small body hurled itself against the back of his shins, the surprise nearly making the Winchester topple over onto the wood plank flooring. Then, he felt furious, wet licks grace the skin on his legs as well. "Woof, woof, woof!"

"Mary!" he chuckled, turning around and crouching down to pet the puppy. "What have you been up to?" he said, pulling a few downy feathers from her soft black and gold fur. She merely continued licking all bare skin on Sam, making contented huffs all the while.

"Gabe," he said loudly, "Mary's been in something and I don't know what!"

"I hope it wasn't in my room," the Archangel remarked, suddenly appearing behind the taller man.

Sauntering into the living room Sam found the room to be covered in small downy feathers. A few pillow cases were strewn about the room covering nearly everything within reach of a half foot tall German shepherd puppy. Behind him, Mary slunk in front of Sam and crouched down, looking up at him morosely. She made soft whimpering noises when the Winchester grunted and crossed his arms, trying to look stern.

"Mary," he huffed, giving up.

She perked up immediately, wagging her tail as fast as it would go.

"Gabe, do we have dog treats?" he called out.

The answer came from in the kitchen. "Yeah, why? Want some?"

Sam laughed shortly. "Not for me if that's what you're implying. For Mary."

"Sure, sure, hold on then Sammich."

There was a loud clattering as Gabriel rummaged through shelves and drawers looking for where he stashed the dog treats. Eventually after a few seconds the Archangel emerged from the other room holding a freezer gallon bag in one hand and a dog treat in his mouth. With a smirk, he tossed Sam the bag.

"What are you doing Gabe?"

"Dunno," he replied, reaching out a hand and touching it to the side of Sam's face, healing all thoughts of his headache.

"Thanks," Sam said, smiling widely at the trickster then turning his attention from the trickster to the happy dog at his feet. "Do you want a treat girl?"

"Woof!"

He pulled one from the clear plastic bag. "Is this what you want?"

"Woof, woof, woof!"

"Sit," Sam commanded, to which Mary obeyed quickly.

"Good girl Mary," he smiled, yielding the bone shaped treat to her.

"Woof," the puppy yapped, snatching the treat and trotting from the room, content.

"You and that damn dog," Gabriel commented.

"What?" the Winchester asked; surprised and slightly affronted.

"It's just too… _cute_."

"Good to know," he grunted.

"What did I do this time?" Gabriel asked, sensing the note of disharmony in his mate's tone.

"Is it true? Everything you said yesterday?"

"Yes, I didn't lie if that's what you're thinking. I wouldn't lie to you."

Sam knew that. But he still had to ask. "This isn't some giant elaborate scheme to get me to do something right?" he mumbled.

"Why would I do that?" The Archangel said, confused and somewhat hurt.

"You've done it before," the taller man frowned down at him.

"Whatever I've done in the past has been in your best interests," he said, running a hand through his hair, "I know it was wrong now. I'm sorry about a lot of things I've done in the past. But I promise I'm not trying to screw you over this time. In fact, it's probably within your best interest now to just walk away, but if there is _one_ thing I'm going to assume; it's honestly, I don't think you will."

"How do you know that?"

"You can't tell? I think you know that my intentions are good this time. That's how I know, Sammy."

Sam was quiet, contemplating what the trickster had said. Gradually, he came to a conclusion. "Fine."

"We good?"

Sam strode across the room and wrapped his arms around the Archangel/trickster/Loki. "We are _so _good. Who would I watch television with if I didn't have you?"

"Excellent question Sammich," he hummed thankfully against Sam's chest. "Besides, we just got to season three. Martha is one of my favourite companions; I'm not sure why people hate her."

"I'll form an opinion as soon as we watch it. But don't think I've forgotten about Dean."

"Sammy," Gabriel groaned. "I'll miss you here!"

"I need to go back, Gabe. I can't stay here, even if I really, _really _want to, and I do."

Gabriel huffed sadly, and pulled back from Sam. Even though he felt depressed, he pulled his usual trickster persona back on like a glove and smirked up at Sam. "When you want to go then? Dean-o needs _someone _to wipe his butt I suppose."

The Winchester furrowed his eyebrows and considered the Pagan God carefully. "I guess we could go later. Mary will need to stay here for now, when I'm gone I mean."

Lighting up slightly at the possible mention of at least a few more hours with Sam, he shook his head up and down. "Glad to hear it, but Mary will be crazy here without you."

"You can manage, right?" The thought of an Archangel being overpowered by a fifty-five pound puppy was ludicrous.

Gabriel frowned slightly. "I can _manage _but I think it would be better if she was with you."

"You know Dean won't be at all on board with a dog, not to mention all the questions that will come with her."

"You'll make him see. I don't want to think about leaving yet. Do you think we can just watch Doctor Who now?"

"Sure," Sam said, dragging Gabriel to the large couch that dominated the center of the room. Settling down against the frame of the furniture he watched as Gabriel snapped his fingers and the T.V. snapped to life, portraying the 10th doctor and Martha Jones meeting for the first time in a hospital on the moon.

Halfway through the second episode of the season, Sam began to develop a crick in his neck. Making a split decision, he leaned against Gabriel's shoulder, deeming it more comfortable that his former position. Though Sam couldn't see, the trickster beamed.

"Gabriel?" Sam breathed a few minutes later.

"Hmm?"

"You won't leave right?"

"'Course not Sammy, why would you ask that?"

"It's just, that everybody always leaves me. When I go back to Dean, can I still call you? Will you come when I call?"

Gabriel pulled the Winchester's head into his lap. "Sam Winchester," he said sternly. "I will never leave you and I will always be a breath away. I will always be here if you want me."

"Thanks Gabe," Sam whispered, settling into Gabriel's lap. "I needed that."

"We all do at some point Sammy," Gabriel sighed, running a hand through Sam's long brown hair. "I love you so much," he breathed.

"I love you too Gabriel."


	11. Chapter 11

Gabriel had convinced Sam to take Mary with him. It had taken coaxing, a strawberry smoothie, lots of making out and at one point, Gabriel had pulled out his best pouty face; which, he was pleasantly surprised at the effect it had on Sam, so he stored that little bit of information away for future reference. End result; Sam caved.

It was around four when Sam had decided he needed to go back to their shitty hotel. In all honesty, guilt and forbidding had been plaguing him for the better part of the last few days. There was always another ghost or Egyptian God to be killing. They rarely ever had a period of time without another job; it seemed that the apocalypse let loose a lot more than just Satan and a peeved Zachariah.

"Have everything ya' need kiddo?"

The Winchester nodded his head absently, fiddling with the leather of the collar Mary was wearing.

"You okay Samsquatch?"

"Wha-? Oh yeah, no I'm fine."

Gabriel frowned. "You are the one who wanted to go back. I'm perfectly content just letting you stay here forever. In fact, there were a couple times where I was _this close_ to just locking you up in my room and having my way with you!" He snickered.

Sam stuck his tongue out at the Archangel childishly and grabbed the green utility jacket off of the leather chair next to him. "Let's go," Sam sighed.

"Alright, I'll be dropping you off approximately ten minutes before Dean wakes up from his sleepover. Also, you might want to take this," he continued, handing Sam an identical wallet to Dean's wallet.

"What's this for?"

"The girl of the day took the original from your idiot brother while he was out then ran."

"Why didn't you just go and get his back from her? Why make an entirely new wallet?"

The trickster shuffled his feet, embarrassed. "They were a bit… outdated? So I kinda switched them out with the new versions. Hope you don't mind."

The Archangel was rewarded with a wide smile. "Thanks Gabriel, you're the best!"

"Woof!" Mary seemed to agree.

"I think you owe me a bit more than just a thank you."

Still smiling, Sam leaned over and kissed the trickster on the top of the head, setting a warm hand on the back of Gabriel's neck, to which he hummed in appreciation and leaned into the taller man.

After a few seconds, Sam pulled back again –to which the Archangel, warrior of heaven, did most certainly _not _whine about- then rubbed Gabriel's shoulder comfortingly. "I'll be back soon."

"You better Winchester," he growled, "Your ass is _mine_."

Sam laughed, tossing his head back. The trickster watched his adam's apple bob for a second, then sadly placed a hand on the side of the hunter's face, transporting him and his dog to the motel and out of Gabriel's reach.

Sam blinked in surprise, nearly dropping Mary –who seemed to be falling asleep at this point- and his jacket to the ground. He was back in the dimly-lit motel, windows drawn, questionable stains and odd smells blasting him in the face all at once. _Shit,_ he thought, _we need to choose better motels for now on._

If only. Sighing, he sat down on the edge of his bed and set Mary on one of the threadbare pillows, scratching her head softly to await Dean's imminent meltdown.

"Sam Winchester."

"Cas!" He squawked, accidentally knocking the back of his hand against the sleepy puppy, who then jumped awake and began to bark frantically; first at the wall in confusion, but then turning on Castiel and barking at him."

"Woof, woof, woof!"

"Wuzzat…?" Dean grumbled, slowly gaining consciousness.

"Cas! Put Dean back to sleep! Quick!" He hissed at the confused and startled angel in front of him.

With a look of what seemed to be exasperation, he tapped two fingers against Dean's skull (and keeping them there _way _too long to be platonic) he turned his attention to Sam once again.

"Sam…" he started awkwardly.

"Woof, woof, woof!"

"Mary, shhh," he quieted the frantic German Shepherd puppy.

"Where did you procure the canine?"

"Why are you here Cas? I know you have some reason. You never just pop in to talk to me."

"I apologize. In the near future I will attempt to make contact with not only Dean but yourself as well."

"That's not necessary Cas."

The trench coat wearing angel cleared his throat. "I will get to my purpose for coming here at such a seemingly random time. There seems to be a problem with you, Sam."

The Winchester's heart stopped. "What?" He asked, his voice coming out quieter than he expected it to.

"I do not know if this is a good thing, or a bad one. It is your soul. Your soul is –I apologize if I offend- tainted at best."

"Figured," Sam muttered. "What else? You didn't just fly down here in the middle of a war just to tell me I'm not pure."

"That is the problem, Sam. Your soul is completely whole now. In fact, it is so pure it may even surpass Dean's. Dean's soul is the brightest I have ever seen in my entire existence. I find myself having trouble looking directly at it, in fact," he said in a monotone.

"What?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"My thoughts exactly. Have you been doing anything different lately? I sense something is off, but I cannot quite place it."

_Gabriel?_ He thought. If Gabriel was the common factor here, Sam wasn't quite comfortable telling Castiel about him quite yet. "Not that I know of," the hunter replied, feigning innocence as well as he possibly could. With so many years of practice and Castiel's utter lack of people skills, the angel bought it easily.

"I see. May I ask why you have an animal with you again?"

"She, uh… Was on the street, so I thought I'd take her in."

Castiel nodded in thought. "There is nothing else I wish to say, so I will return to heaven. Dean will wake momentarily."

With that said, he offered Sam a strained smile and was gone in a flutter of wings.

"Woof!" Mary barked, wagging her tail rapidly.

"Sit Mary."

Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she sat on Sam's bed, tail pumping the fabric into wrinkles just as Dean began to stir.

"D'you smell dog?" he grumbled, shoving his face into the yellowish pillow.

"Dean," Sam sighed.

"Hmm."

"There _is _a dog."

"You serious?" his brother quipped, an eye squinting out from where he laid. Seeing the puppy, he immediately sat up, eyebrows furrowing together. "Why do you have a dog?"

"I was running this morning and I saw her eating out of a trash can," he stuttered, sticking mostly to his earlier story. "So I thought I'd take her back with me."

It suddenly struck Sam that he hadn't seen his brother in well over a week. Smiling brightly, he announced that he was going to make breakfast.

"If you're gonna be this happy just because of a damn canine I guess she can stay for a while," he mused. "Under no circumstances is she allowed in my car though."

"Fine," Sam replied.

Dean just grumbled and shoved his face into the pillow again.


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry about this chapter ahead of time don't kill me

It turned out that Dean and Mary got along famously. He would take her out on walks when Sam was holed up doing research. Dean even let her into the Impala (albeit on a towel, which wasn't _too_ much of a problem). When he went out to bars he seemed to get less drunk than usual. It seemed the hunts they had been lately on seemed to get easier. Most of the motels they stayed in were nicer than they could have ever have hoped for before. But, it seemed that Sam was the only one who noticed it. He was sure that it was Gabriel's doing; but he hadn't seen the Archangel in over three weeks. It was really getting to Sam today, though.

"I'm going out again Sam, don't wait up."

"Like there's anywhere to go," Sam retorted angrily.

Dean shrugged, brushing off his brother's irritation and walking out the door. Mary was sleeping soundly under the table in the kitchen and all that could be heard was the steady _plink plink plink _of his laptop and the hum of the heating system.

They were slightly south of Columbus, Ohio hunting demons. This case was odd though. Layered under the scent of sulfur was something else. Sam couldn't place it and Dean didn't even seem to notice it. Once, Sam had mentioned it but Dean just oblivious. He had insisted that it was just another typical case of demons until the younger Winchester was forced to drop the subject.

It was still nagging at Sam, though.

He wished he could talk to Gabriel, but he wasn't answering any prayers. It made him extremely worried and skittish. Why wouldn't Gabriel talk to him? Had he done something wrong?

Slamming shut the lid of his computer he stood and began to pace around the room. The Winchester just felt like _doing _something. Anything at all; even going after this demon by himself. The sane part of the man's mind was screaming at him to stop and go back to researching before jumping into the pot, but he wasn't feeling particularly sane at the moment.

After slipping on his jacket and checking to see if he had holy water, salt and his knife, he rushed out the door, just allotting enough time to check and see if it was locked. Stowing the key somewhere he knew Dean would find it, the Winchester started down the road.

It was dark outside and Sam wished he had brought a flashlight. Most of the streetlamps were either broken or in serious need of a new light bulb. They flickered violently, which was the first mistake Sam made that night.

The scene of the crime where a girl had disappeared (reported by her terrified boyfriend the next morning, they had been exploring) was only two blocks away, luckily enough for him. He was climbing over the chain link fence into the abandoned car factory before he knew it.

Crouching down as far as he could, he began to stalk up the gravel parking lot towards an old loading dock. It was an easy trek, nobody seemed to see him. The door that separated the inside from the outside that had been originally placed on the dock seemed to either have been removed long ago or had fallen off. Sam climbed carefully inside.

The interior smelt of mold and sulfur. It was so permeating that the Winchester tore off a strip of fabric covering a local hunk of old metal and tied it over his nose and mouth.

_Creeeaaak._

Swinging his head to the left, Sam squinted into the darkness, trying to make out what had caused the sound.

_Crooo-ooo-oook, Creeeaaak._

This time, the sound came from his right. Deciding quickly, he made off into an adjacent room, listening frantically for the source of the sound. This felt wrong, very, very wrong. He should never have come.

"…She seems… doing," came an airy voice from an unidentifiable location.

"That's what… said… one," a second voice chimed.

"Well maybe they're wrong… time."

"Ha, when that happens I'll cozy up to one of those angels too. Maybe make some music."

There seemed to be two pairs of steps walking directly towards the room Sam happened to be hiding in. He was frozen, deciding whether or not to stay and listen to what they were saying, or to sneak past them (maybe kill them if he had the chance) and get away while he still could.

The steps continued. "Her plans seem to be well thought over," the first voice drawled.

"You know whose plans were "well thought over"? Lucifer's! Look where that got him! I'd wish we could just let those idiotic creatures go already."

"You know we can't. Besides, this plan is pretty much full proof. All we need is just one little bit-"

"Yeah; and how will we do that? Go up and ask him if he'll take it? Or maybe we could spike his punch!" The second (a female voice) snarled angrily.

"There will be time to figure it out."

"Shut up. Why exactly are we doing this again? You know that idiot Archangel can't get in."

Sam's interest peaked.

"He has accomplices. I'm sure you remember that wolf."

"Of course I remember that bastard wolf."

"There is you're answer, then."

"Role call!" The female voice shouted suddenly in Sam's tiny room, making the Winchester jump so badly that his head rammed into an iron pole above it.

"Oh shit! There's someone in here! Grab 'em!" screeched the female voice.

Shooting to his wobbly feet, Sam lobbed towards the door, brandishing the demon knife in his hand. A dark toned girl –about the age of fifteen- threw herself out of the way, only to expose a man. He was approximately the same size as himself and twice as buff. That wasn't his biggest problem by far. Oh no, the two people he had encountered were none other than demons.

Raising his hand calmly, the man threw the Winchester up against the back wall in the room. The weapon clattered to the floor, making Sam flinch.

"How convenient is this?" The girl squealed, eyes flashing in the dark. "We don't even need to hunt him down anymore!"

"What the hell?" Sam grunted, trying to escape his invisible binds. "Why do you want me?"

"Psht, why don't we want you Sammy?" the girl snickered, stepping closer to flick him on the nose. He didn't manage to escape, however he did spit in her face.

"Fuck! Let me kill the bastard!" she shrieked, but the man held up a hand, silencing her.

"Sam Winchester I presume."

"Who cares?"

He licked his lips. "As Annie over there had previously mentioned; everyone."

"What is that even supposed to mean!?"

"It means we have plans for you. This time, we'll make sure we don't fail."

"_This_ time? What other plans are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "Guess you'll find out," he stated as the demon-girl struck him on the head with the very iron bar he had hit his head on not two minutes ago. Sam was out cold before he could even register that he had been released.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam woke up with a headache.

Consciousness slowly returned to him as he fought his way out of the dark. It wasn't easy. As soon as that was done, he found himself attacked with a vicious throbbing pain at the top of his skull. He also found that his hands were tied behind his back and the rest of him firmly duck taped to a chair.

The room was dark and smelled of something that smelled suspiciously of blood and sweat. Sam squinted, trying to make out any of his surroundings. All he could make out was a vague, lumpy shape to his left.

"Hello?" he said quietly, testing the waters so to speak.

A stifled moan returned to him.

"Whose there?"

_Cough, cough._ Another groan.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked hesitantly.

_Cough._ "Whose there?" The stranger replied in a rusty, unidentifiable voice.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna get you out of here," the Winchester assured the stranger.

"T-thanks kid-" the voice strained only to break into a fit of coughs again.

Sam began to struggle with vigor. He realized that his jacket had been removed, along with all of his weapons. He didn't think to bring anything else. Decidedly, he could kick himself later. Right now there was someone who needed help. There was no way he would let them go.

Maybe if he could just push the tape and bunch it up enough, he could slip it off like rope… The actual rope would come later. He had gotten out of worse.

Sam tried to move his arms up and down to peel up the substance enough to begin to group it. There was a small amount of success. He began to work the sticky fabric-y tape.

An obscene amount of time passed before the Winchester made and progress. His "bunk mate" at that point sounded like he/she was about to hack up his/her lungs. Eventually his binds became loose enough for him to shrug them forcefully over his head with a loud sigh.

"I'm gonna get you out now," he assured the stranger, groping his way through the dark towards the black blob.

"Careful," the voice sighed.

"Of what?"

"Don't touch anything that you're not supposed to," he barely made out through all of the sick coughing and stifled groans.

"Alright…" Sam said, hand brushing over the fabric of what was possibly a damp jacket. He felt lower until his skin touched the smooth surface of the other's tape bindings.

"Damn duct tape; I'm gonna punch whoever made this piece of shit invention," he growled to himself. "I don't suppose you have anything sharp on you?"

"F-floor."

"There's something on the floor?"

"Mmm hmm."

Crouching down, Sam felt along the floor. It was dirty and smelled strongly of sweaty feet and other unspeakable odors this close to the ground that made him want to gag. Small shards of glass and pebbles, which were much too small to actually use, were littered wherever he touched; until he came across a strange metal… _thing_. It felt sharp, so he picked it up and hacked away at the duct tape, cutting it in record timing. The object cut through much cleaner and swifter than he would have thought it could for something so light and small as it was.

_Snap,_ the binding broke. The Winchester slipped the metallic object into his jean pocket; hoping it wouldn't cut him on the way out. He didn't want to throw it away, they still might need it.

"Time to go," Sam whispered. The other person tried to stand, only to collapse, knees buckling beneath him/her.

"Wow, wow take it easy. I got you. Lean on me," he assured, putting a hand on the other's shoulder.

"No!" They yelled, stumbling backwards. "I can (_groan)_ get it."

They stood again, falling onto the floor.

"No, you obviously can't. It's no big deal; I can get you out of here. I want to help, remember?"

"Not a good idea."

"Why not?! We need to get out of here, _now_."

Silence.

If the man/woman didn't agree to come with him in ten seconds, he would drag them out. There was no way in Hell he was just going to leave them there. That was a path he was not willing to take. The Winchester would knock the other out if he had to.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Fi-

"Fine. Just… take (_cough_) my shoulder."

The younger Winchester let out a pent-up breath that he didn't know he had been holding in. _One less death because of you_, he thought to himself.

"Thank you," he said, groping out the other person once again, heading in the direction of where they crashed. "Who are you, anyways?"

"It doesn't m-matter right (_hack_) now. What matters (_hack_) is that (_wheeze_) we get out of here, and fast. I (_moan_) think we (_wheeze_) have about a s-seven-n minute opportunity t-to get (_cough_) the Hell out of h-here."

"And you were going to tell me this _when_?!"

"When it b-became important."

Growling, he swiped out for the figure's arm; and, luckily, grabbing it. Pulling them forward he pulled what was probably their face close to his."

"Listen here, you need to tell me everything you know so we can both get out of here alive," he growled dangerously. They needed to realize that this was a very dangerous situation. It was nothing to be taken lightly.

"Door, far right corner (_wheeze_) of this room. We take f-four lefts (_hack_) a right then another left. There s-should be (_hack_) a flight of stairs going up. Take those. From there I have no idea."

Sam took a deep breath. "Anything else?"

"Probably demon (_cough_) guards around every turn. They took all of my stuff and yours, dunno where they put 'em," the voice (which Sam had finally distinguished as male through all the rattling and coughing fits) said, out of breath now with a final splutter of "damn".

"Come on then."

Pulling the man behind him, he headed for where he said the door would be. Sure enough, they encountered a locked, wooden plate; hardly in good enough condition to be called a door anymore. Without further ado, he kicked it down with a firm knock of his leg.

"Augh!" Sam exclaimed, light beseeching their eyes.

He threw up an arm to cover his face, stifling a few, choice swear. Quickly enough, they adjusted enough for him to squint into the hallway.

"Left, right?" the Winchester asked, turning to look at the man for the first time.

In which he had to stifle several _more_ swear words.

"Gabriel?"

"_Cough,_ heya, Samsquatch."

The Archangel was _drenched _in blood. Cuts riddled all visible skin on his body. It seemed that he had dropped several pounds. Not to mention the hacking and odd stinking substances that was mixed in with the blood.

That wasn't what caught his attention, though.

Sprouting out of his back was two, very large, very dirty _wings._

"Ehem, I know (_cough_) I'm a-amazing, but we (wheeze) need to go."

"What happened to you?" Sam whispered, reaching out to touch the fabric of Gabriel's shirt as if to make sure he was real.

"Not now, let's move. I can't (hack) walk myself…"

"Right," the Winchester said detachedly, grabbing the trickster's arm again and walking aimlessly down the left portion of the seemingly abandoned hallway.


	14. Chapter 14

The trickster and the hunter had found a store room full of various supplies. There had been bottles of water (which Gabriel had drank three of and it seemed to clear up his cough for the most part), canned and boxed foods, and; most disturbingly, tens of hundreds of gallon containers containing blood. They had found werewolf blood, shifter blood, vampire, leviathan; and Gabriel even found demon blood. They left quickly enough after that. Sam could have sworn he had smelled something funny.

"Sam, there are a few things you might want to know…"

"What else could there be?

"Oh, if you want to play that game, than probably quite a few. Like, I would love to give you a-"

"Gabe, we are escaping from a locked down demon hive; now is not the time for this."

The Archangel let out a long, suffering sigh. "Soon," he muttered to himself; but the Winchester caught it. He couldn't completely stifle the smile that crawled onto his face. "Well, there are sigils everywhere, so I'm not at full power, for one."

"I figured as much."

"Also, there seems to be more guards than I was expecting. There really isn't a lot of hope for us getting out of here in this state. We need to get rid of the sigils."

"Okay," the Winchester whispered, ducking into a dark corner as two demons walked by, dragging the Pagan god with him. "Where are they and how do we do that?"

"The thing is; I'm not completely sure… I know there are a few around here… I can feel them."

"Where?"

"There is one right behind you…?"

"Oh," he muttered in exclamation, flipping his body around to face the wall. There was a large, black spray painted circle encrypted with odd symbols that Sam assumed where in Enochian. It seemed to be radiating some kind of energy that made the hunter uncomfortable to stand around. "What does it mean?"

"It essentially banishes angels, but since I'm an Archangel, I can withstand it for the most part."

"But that doesn't look like an angel banishing sigil. Dean and I used to make those all the time. It doesn't even look like it's in human blood."

"This one is older… it doesn't need human blood I don't think. That's probably blood from one of those containers we found in the store room; I can't tell which, though." Gabriel told him.

"Ah. Well, how do we destroy it? Wipe it down with soap?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Nope. Just need to break the circle. That's your job. I can't exactly _touch_ it."

Sam grunted in acknowledgement, standing on the tops of his feet to reach the Enochian circle. He brought a finger up to brush away a small portion of the blood, just not enough to be noticeable to passing creatures. Taking away the minimum amount of blood, the hunter settled himself back down on the ground.

_Wait._

There was that smell again, the same smell from the store room.

"Can you smell that?"

"Smell what? Decay, death, your armpits? Yes. Other than that? No."

Sam sniffed again. "It smells kind of… metallic? I'm not sure how to explain it. I think I've smelled it before, but I can't remember where."

"Let's just go, Sam," the trickster said sternly, pulling Sam into the hallway again with one hand.

"You never call me Sam except when something is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, nothing at all! Including how we are trapped in a demon hideout; and you keep talking about a funny smell!" the Archangel shot back snidely.

"I'm not buying it. You called me 'Samsquatch' just a few minutes ago."

"We need to go, Sam. Now; okay? We can talk all you want later."

"Fine."

They hurried down the deserted corridor. Gabriel now seemed to be gaining strength back; because he summoned a lollypop with a snap of his fingers, handing it to the Winchester with a small smirk. Sam accepted, smiling back.

Suddenly, loud, blaring alarms sounded from every corner of the complex.

"They found out we escaped!" Gabriel shouted over the chiming. "We need to run!"

"What about the other sigils?"

The trickster visibly slapped himself. "Sam, I can't get out of here, but you might be able to if I distracted them long enough!" he shouted, the feathers in his wings puffing themselves out as if they too, accepted their suicide mission to keep the hunter safe.

"I'm not leaving you!"

"You might have to, kiddo!"

"No!"

"Damn you Winchesters and your self-sacrificing morals! It's my turn!"

"Shut up Gabriel!" Sam said, suddenly attacking the trickster's lips in a feverish embrace. He grabbed his shirt and pulled the shorter man close. "Just listen to what I have to say you pigeon."

"I'm listening," the Archangel huffed, looking dreamily up at Sam, oblivious to the alarm bells going off everywhere else.

"Tell me where you think all the other sigils are, and then go distract the demons while I destroy them."

"That's idiotic and suicidal; I'm not letting you do that."

Sam wasn't having it. "Do you have enough energy to summon your angel blade?"

"Angel blade; yes. My usual; not so much."

The Winchester opened his mouth to question the Archangel, but snapped it shut again, looking around to see if they were still alone. So far they had been lucky. "Go smite them all then."

"In this state, I'm not much more than a human with a knife!"

"So am I," the hunter retorted, glaring at Gabriel menacingly.

Gabriel cringed. "Sorry kiddo. You know I'm used to divine powers."

"We're running out of time," Sam insisted. "Where are they?"

The other man clenched his eyes shut tightly. He was _so_ going to regret this. If the Winchester died; what would he do? Ugh. "There is possibly one directly above us two floors up, four off in that general direction," the trickster shouted, waving vaguely to his left, "and one over there-ish. That should free up enough hard drive space to get us outta here."

"Thanks Gabe. I won't let you down," Sam said, kissing his grubby cheek. "I won't let _us _down."

He ran off down the hallway, leaving the Pagan god to his own devises. Ruffling his wings, Gabriel too, set off to cause the biggest, most important distraction in all of his long life.

As the hunter sprinted down the similar passageways, he began to smell that scent once again. In truth, he hadn't been able to stop smelling it since the store room, but he didn't want to worry the Archangel. It smelled pretty good actually; but what was it?

He wiped his nose with the back of one hand, but that only seemed to make it stronger. _Is it on my hand?_ Sam thought mockingly.

While running, he quickly brought up his limb to inspect it. There only seemed to be dirt, and a black rub on his thumb. Was that it? Bringing it up to his nose, he inhaled. That _was _it. Huh. Biting his lip, he ignored the problem, settling on trying to find the next sigil rather than some weird nice-smelling stuff on his skin.

_There!_

Sam discovered another Enochian circle on an old metal door. He set to work.


	15. Chapter 15

The Winchester was making progress. He had destroyed five of the six Enochian angel sigils without a great deal of trouble. There had been a few close calls, though. Once he had nearly run strait out in front of a group of seven or so demons, whom had been discussing avidly the thought of re-capturing Gabriel and himself. They passed him by quickly, so Sam continued his search.

There were shouts and screams from the opposite end of the compound. Sam could only assume that they had found the Archangel, and he could only hope that Gabriel had regained enough strength to fight them off by himself.

Right now, the hunter had his own problems. Where was the last sigil?

He turned yet another corner, seeking vainly for the last circle. No circle, but something else that shocked the Winchester much, much more.

Lying in the middle of the corridor was a dying demon; bleeding out its life onto the stone and dirt floor.

"Get… away from me," it hissed faintly.

Sam couldn't tear his eyes from the sight.

"I'll… call for… backup," it threatened weakly, groping at a stab wound on its stomach.

The smell was strong here; he could remember what it was now. The scent was of demon's blood. The hunter didn't have the willpower to turn and leave.

"Get away!"

Sam hadn't noticed his legs carry him forward, towards the dying monster. It hissed feebly at him, eyes going black, trying to scare the Winchester off. It didn't work.

"Sam!" a voice shouted from behind him. He hardly heard, dipping a hand down to catch the red, thick liquid still pouring hotly from the demon's stomach. Sam couldn't stop; he needed this. Vaguely in the back of his mind, a voice told him that he shouldn't want this at all. He hadn't had a craving since before Hell.

"Sammy no!" A hand gripped his shoulder, dragging him backwards and away from his prey. He snarled, whipping around to face the intruder. It was Dean.

"Sammy, what are you doing, man?"

The younger Winchester managed to regain ground against the raging turmoil in his mind. Holding out his hands –which were still covered in dark blood- to his brother, he merely said one word. "Blood."

The older man sprang into action. "We're gonna get you out of here, man. Hold on."

Dean firmly grasped his little brother's arm, pulling him away from the now dead demon. Sam could still smell the blood on his hands and it took all of his willpower to not lick them clean this very instant. It was all he could think about.

"You know better than to run into a demon hideout like this, Sam," Dean growled lowly, "especially unarmed like this. You didn't even take your jacket?"

"I took my jacket!" Sam retorted, the bitter scent of demon still filling his nostrils.

"Yeah, right."

"Where's Gabriel?"

"Gabriel? Wait, that son of a bitch is alive?!" his brother spat, stopping suddenly and turning to face the taller man. "When were you going to tell me this?!"

"I was," Sam assured, trying to concentrate. "Now is not the time for this, Dean, I can hardly think strait. Get it away from me," he continued faintly, pushing his bloody hands into the older man's torso.

Dean hesitated. "Don't think I'm through with this," he scowled, dragging Sam further into the maze of passageways.

The pair explored a few rooms in search of water to wash Sam with. The taller brother felt anxious, twitching at every small sound they heard, jumping whenever Dean sighed, coughed or sneezed. He wanted to itch his nose too.

"Dean," he groaned brokenly. This was taking too long.

"Sam, hold on. We'll find some water and then you'll be alright."

"No, I won't!" Sam shouted, his voice echoing throughout the compound. Everyone would have heard them. "I will never be alright. There is always something wrong with me. I want it so _bad_ I can't think. I can't breathe. I want it."

"We just need some water," Dean repeated.

Sam only stared down at his hands. The blood was dry and flaking off at this point, but he could still smell it. He lifted his left to his face, inspecting it.

"This isn't enough," he growled.

"Of course it isn't," said a voice from behind him.

Sam turned around slowly, confirming what he suspected. Another demon; and she brought friends. He smiled.

"Sam, no; we can work this out. We can beat them without it."

The Winchester's throat was dry. His hand was only inches away from his face, and more demons not ten feet away, and he knew he could take them. All it took was a little bit, not even a lot. Eyes darkened with need, he took exactly what he needed.

"No!" his brother yelled from behind him, diving towards his little brother to try and stop him. But it was too late. Sam easily avoided the lunging man, and then turned on the demons in the doorway. The one who had spoken was smirking.

"I knew you'd always make the right decision."

"Wow, couldn't this wait like, five minutes?"

"Gabriel?" The demon crowed blankly.

"Gabriel?" the trickster mocked, "Gabriel who? Not the Archangel Gabriel! Oh man, better start running!"

The demon pack did just that.

As soon as they left, Gabriel flocked to Sam. "Kiddo, are you okay?" he asked, panicking.

"I need more," he moaned, dropping to the floor.

"More of what? You didn't drink any demon blood, did you?" he asked, half joking.

Sam only moaned, clutching the Archangel's shirt.

"What happened to him?" Gabriel demanded Dean, who was just now standing up from trying to flying bear hug his little brother.

"He drank it!" the man shouted, fury radiating from him like hot lava pouring from a volcano in Hawaii. "He drank the god damn demon blood! You have no right to poof in here and claim to care about us!"

"I don't care about you," Gabriel raged. "I care about _him_," the Archangel fumed, pointing a finger at Sam, who was now curled in a feeble position on the dirt floor. "Look, this whole place absolutely _reeks_ of _exactly_ what your brother wants; and we need to get him the fuck out of here."

The man seemed stunned. Dumbly, he nodded his head.

"Our best bet is for me to take him out myself, angel style. I can't do that just yet because there is still one more angel sigil blocking my escape. I need you to destroy it. The circle is somewhere nearby. Any patrols we run into I can take care of. Okay?"

"How do I know you won't just run off or kill us both once I drop the sigil?"

"He… won't. Promise," Sam managed, looking blearily at Dean before dropping his head below an arm.

"…Fine." His brother agreed.


	16. Chapter 16

Gabriel had Sam draped over his arm. Even though he was an Archangel, the Winchester was awkward to carry behind him. Sam tried to make it easier on Gabriel by half walking half staggering quickly down the empty corridors, but he wasn't much help. The Winchester was just too damn tall.

"Are we close?" Dean demanded, throwing his arms around him erratically to indicate he had no idea where he was going.

"I think so, try that hallway there."

"You think so? You _think_ so?"

"What do you want me to do? Sprinkle a little pixie dust and fly us outta here? Not gonna happen princess."

"I was _hoping_ that you knew what you were _doing_," the older Winchester growled.

"Well _soOOrry!_ I may be the ex-messenger of God, but I am not a miracle worker. That was always Dad's job."

"Stop fighting you idiots," Sam sighed heavily through hurried breaths. "It's not helping the situation."

Gabriel frowned, seemingly forgetting that Dean was even there at all. "How you holding up, kiddo?"

"Mmf," Sam grunted as he tripped over his own feet, "I can still smell it," he managed weakly.

"I think I see it!" Dean announced from farther ahead. "Is it a big black circle with, uh… maybe Enochian symbols inside it?"

"Really general description you got there, Dean-o."

"Just get over here."

"Are you sure you're okay?" the Archangel persisted to Sam.

The Winchester in turn succeeded a small smile. "I'm with you, I'll be fine."

Gabriel couldn't help but beam at the other man's praise. "You are too good, Sammy."

The pair made their way to Dean. He was standing in front of a large angel sigil. "That'd be it. Go ahead and break the circle and we can get out of here," Gabriel quipped.

The older Winchester let out a pent up breath. Digging a knife out of his pocket he scraped off the damp, damaged wood until a little channel of paint-free wood was connecting the outside of the shape to the inside. Almost instantly, Gabriel felt a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He could practically see his wings unfurling again. Well, he could… but that wasn't the point. The point was that he could finally get Sam to safety.

"Hold on Dean-o, the train's leaving."

Clutching Sam in his arms he felt him cough weakly. The other Winchester put a hand on his shoulder, careful to avoid the three pairs of wings sprouting from his back. He could sense the older Winchester's discomfort, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care.

Placing a quick kiss on the top of Sam's head, they departed Hell on Earth.

The trio arrived on Gabriel's cabin doorstep. Neither Gabriel nor Sam seemed surprised but Dean nearly toppled over in shock. "Where the _fuck_ are we?"

"Now's not a good time," the Archangel hissed, helping Sam inside because his knees were shaking so hard. Dean scoffed at him, but still managed to look concerned for his little brother nonetheless.

"I-I'm okay now I think. I just need to sit down," the Winchester muttered against the fabric of Gabriel's shirt. "D'you still have the couch?"

"'Course I still have the couch. I got it just for you," the Archangel drawled, mentally slapping himself for admitting that out loud. Sam was going to think he was creepy! The last thing he had wanted to do was freak the Winchester out _now _of all times.

"You're amazing," Sam said dreamily.

"Come again?"

"I'm out. Call me if you need me," Dean muttered in annoyance from the back of the room as he stalked out into another room.

The younger Winchester chuckled, turning his attention back to Gabriel. You. Are. Amazing."

"I'm really not, but thank you kiddo. How much did you drink?"

That sobered the other man up instantly. "I haven't had any cravings since Hell, well, other than today." He said honestly.

"So no blood that you know of?"

He shook his head no. "I came close… but no. Can I stand up? I need to stand."

"Okay, lemme help you."

The two clung to each other as Sam staggered to his feet. His knees had stopped shaking, but he still had to hang onto Gabriel for support. Everything ached; from his toes up to even his hair follicles; everything ached for one thing. Sam tried his best to ignore it. It seemed to be working. The taller man could hardly smell the blood anymore. He really needed to wash his hands, though.

"What happened to you?" The hunter asked suddenly.

"Me?" The trickster exclaimed, surprised. He hadn't even thought about anything but Sam; and he really needed some kind of excuse for why he was in that compound in the first place. Not that he wanted to lie to his mate, but it was actually kind of a dire situation.

"Yeah, you. Why were you there? What's up with the wings? What the Hell is going on anymore?"

"I'll tell you what I can," Gabriel said, pulling the Winchester out onto the porch and into the sun. It was late afternoon, and the air was warm. There was some snow on the ground, but not much. It would probably melt by morning. Long shadows were climbing across the landscape to engulf the cabin house, but they hadn't quite made it yet.

"Look, there are some things that you really don't need to know. So I'll skip those parts. What you need to know is that I will let nothing bad happen to you again. Those few weeks I was gone? Well, I'm done. Won't happen again. I can hang around as much as you'd like me to."

"You're trying to distract me," Sam said, leaning up against the light wood of the railing. "What's going on?"

The Archangel chuckled. "Too smart for your own damn good. Listen, after all this time hunting you know you have made a few enemies, right?"

The Winchester began to look suspicious and worried at the same time. The trickster decided he didn't like that look. "Yeah," he responded slowly.

"I'm taking care of them. Nothing I can't handle. Got some friends in high places snooping around where the shit is thick and we're clearing them out as we go along; so to speak. We're just looking out for you."

"Who are your friends?"

"Couple of Pagan gods here, maybe a low class angel there…" The trickster evaded.

"Wait, Pagan gods are helping _me_?"

"I guess you could put it that way… Anyways, don't worry about a thing. We've got in under control."

"Are you going to tell me who we pissed off?"

"Nah."

"You will have to tell me eventually, you know that right?"

"Nope," Gabriel smirked, popping the "p" loudly.

"Stupid pigeon," Sam muttered, smiling slightly and making his way back inside; leaving the trickster in the outside air to feel sick to his stomach, alone.


	17. Chapter 17

Gabriel may just be the worst person ever. He'd lied pretty much consistently through the entire conversation with Sam. The thing was that pretty much only Fenrir was helping the Archangel, and he was hoping to get Castiel in on his little mission later on. While Sam seemed to be missing all the signs of his lies, Dean on the other hand seemed to be more on the same wavelength. Well, that might just be the fact that hated Gabriel and everything he stood for.

The trickster stood outside for a few minutes after Sam had gone inside. It was beginning to transition to night time when he decided to confront the Winchester duo. Sighing, he pulled back the glass doors and stepped inside of his cabin home.

Sam and Dean were situated on the obnoxiously large couch. Sam was relaxed back into the brown leather of the cushions, looking uncomfortable but completely at ease. Dean, in contrast, looked like the definition of agitated. He was seated on the tip of the sofa, looking as if he would be ready to jump up and fight something at a moment's notice. His hands were curled into fists, balled into the fabric of his red plaid shirt. His face was tight, and he talked lowly and earnestly with his brother.

"-don't see why we should trust him!" Dean was saying.

"Well, for one, he saved our lives," Sam stated, trying to calm his brother down.

"That doesn't mean that he won't stab us in the backs later!"

"Well, it doesn't mean that he _will_."

Dean growled out something that Gabriel didn't quite catch. Sam's posture changed dramatically within a moment. His whole body seized in shock; the hunter's shoulder's clenched, the arm he had slung over the back of the couch retracted until it was clamping his other arm. He looked in surprise at Dean, who in return looked equally as surprised as Sam.

"I was joking," the older hunter managed.

The younger man got a hold of himself once again. "Well I do," he said with purpose as if daring his older brother to challenge him. Unluckily for Sam, Dean took the offer at the drop of a hat.

"What the Hell, Sammy?"

"You don't know what-"

"I don't care what!" Dean shouted. Gabriel deemed it a good time to intervene.

"Dean-o! Samsquatch!"

The older hunter glared at the Archangel. Yeah, maybe it wasn't the best nickname he had ever come up with but he didn't think it was bad enough to deserve so many metaphorical knives hurled at his head. It surprised Gabriel even more when Dean stomped out of the room. Sheesh you'd think the hunter would have more manners. After all he was offering his house to him for the time being.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that your brother hates me more than usual. Do I smell that bad?" The trickster joked, plopping down next to the taller man.

"We were talking. I had been explaining why we should trust you."

"Okay…?"

"Well, he doesn't understand why I trust you. He was joking, but he asked if I was in love with you…"

"Oh."

Sam looked at the ground. "Dean probably thinks that you're controlling me or something now."

"Never!" Gabriel exclaimed, thoroughly appalled by the very idea.

Sam sighed heavily. "It doesn't matter right now. There's nothing we can say to him to change his mind. Maybe later."

"We'll think of something," the Archangel said, running a hand through the hunter's hair.

"What's up with the wings, by the way? I wanted to ask earlier but it didn't seem like a good time."

"Oh, these old things? There's a lot of terminology I'm gonna skip; but here's the gist of it. Those sigils in the compound were sapping my strength. Not enough to make me helpless, but enough that I couldn't hide them anymore. Their usually on a different plane of existence and I'm really surprised you can actually see them."

"Oh. D'you think it has something to do with the fact that I'm your… mate?"

"Probably."

"Can I touch them?"

"Touch them?" The trickster exclaimed, clearly not expecting that comment.

"Yeah? Is that okay?"

"I don't know. Nobody's ever done that before. In fact; nobody has ever even _seen_ them before."

The Winchester frowned. Gabriel seemed to know what was going through his mind. "Hey, kiddo. You are worth it, okay? You are not a monster."

"Thanks, Gabe." Sam said, leaning into the trickster and inhaling his scent. Gabriel smiled fondly, kissing the top of the taller man's head. Sam always managed to smell like mint and coffee, even after a run-in with demons. Damn Winchester. He'd be the death of him, no doubt. Not that he really minded anyways.

"I wanna know more about your wings," Sam said, muffled slightly by the trickster shirt.

"Hmm, well, angels like Castiel have three pairs of wings. One is for travel, one is for battle and one is for mating," Gabriel said bluntly. Sam nodded in understanding.

"Archangels have four pairs of wings. The fourth pair is more for status than anything else, though, the fourth pair can be used for anything the other three can."

"Which pair are those?" the Winchester asked, gesturing to the golden wings Gabriel had been leaning back on.

"I think these are my travelling wings, but I'm not sure."

"How can you not be sure?"

"Well, they're all really similar until you use them. The only way I could figure it out was to either attack you or jump off a cliff."

"What about the… mating wings?"

"I'm pretty sure you don't want your brother walking in here and seeing me jumping you."

Sam grunted. "Good point."

"If you really want to know, we can figure it out later. Right now I need a nice long shower and you need to go council your brother."

"Okay," the hunter grunted, hoisting his massive, aching body upright and placing a long kiss on the Archangel's lips before heading off to wherever Dean had disappeared off to.

"Make that a cold shower," Gabriel said to himself, not missing the laughter of Sam in the hallway who had apparently heard him. He couldn't help but smile.


End file.
